He gritted his teeth as I tugged on the long strands, rocking in his lap. His body stiffened as I took over the rhythm, setting a relentless intoxicating pace.

His eyes tightened. “Shit, you’re … not … going … to …”

I bit his ear, increasing my speed. “Not going to do what?” I licked his jaw. “Win?”

He suddenly flipped me onto my back, pinning me down with his hips. “Say yes. Now. Do it. I’m about to fucking explode.” He turned feral, giving me no room to hide and no breath to gasp.

My body turned rigid as every nerve ending shot between my legs. His thickness, his length, the pure undiluted way he loved me all soared me into the stratosphere.

The playfulness disappeared.

Seriousness tinged every thrust.

Everything else disappeared under an avalanche of bliss.

His mouth crashed on mine, drinking my heart and soul. “Say yes, Buttercup. Make me the happiest man alive.”

The beg in his voice undid me and in that blissful moment of piercing pleasure, I thanked the universe for making me worthy of this man.

That he was mine forever.

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Giving in to him, I let go of everything, sewing my heart to his for eternity.

His tongue entered my mouth, tasting of desperation and desire; I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I came.

Oh, God!

Every cell exploded, obliterating loneliness and lost years. “Arthur …”

“Take me,” he grunted. “Tell me you’ll have me forever.”

My release grew stronger. Wave after wave, I relished our connection and the adoration I found in his arms.

I’d found home.

I’d found my perfect other.

Throwing my head back, I threw myself into the final band of my orgasm and said one single word.

Three tiny letters.

The ultimate immortal promise.

“Yes.”



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